Look Upon Your Sins
by Prosper-the-XVIII
Summary: Set during Skyfall. Silva wants revenge on his former boss, and is prepared to do anything to make her suffer like he did. M is beyond caring what happens to her, so long as nobody else dies for her... AU hearing and the events before and after -Major(ish) Character Deaths (One that's not supposed to happen and one that does.)-
1. Chapter 1

"Your name is on the memorial wall of the very building you tried to destroy. I shall have it struck off. Your past will be as non-existent as your future. I shall never see you again." M was speaking in short, clipped sentences, turned to Silva with an obvious note of dislike in her voice. However, Silva saw fear in the steely blue eyes that he had once loved.

He stared to her, his eyes pleading as she walked out. In one final attempt to maybe make her regret what she did to him, or even better, let him kill her, he stood up hastily, and shouted across the room to M. "Do you have any idea what it does to you? Hydrogen cyanide? It can change you..." She didn't turn around fully, just her head, but once he was sure he had her attention, he stuck his right middle and index fingers into his mouth, behind his two upper canines, and wrenched hard at them. A sound akin to that of breaking bone, and Silva pulled the chunk of metal and fake teeth underneath his skin out and revealed the scarred, deformed, desolate shell of his former self. The left side of his face looked, if anything, the way it had before the whole cyanide episode; it was his right that was the more shocking. His bottom eyelid on that side sagged downwards, making blinking pretty difficult. There was virtually no muscle structure in most of his mouth or jaw, but it was the worst below his right eye, the cheek completely hollow and perhaps a bit darker than the rest of his face. His jaw drooped on both sides; again, affecting his ability to speak or shut his mouth. Combine this with the fact that little or none of his teeth were still intact - all were just dark, partially dissolved stumps – and the severe damage to his vocal cords that he had suffered once he swallowed the emergency poison capsule, and he pretty much couldn't speak at all without the voice regulator in his cheek prosthesis. However, he tried. What came out was pretty much a strangled gargle, but it was meant to be; "Look upon your sins, Mother."  
M literally jumped when she saw his true form, but she composed herself quickly and walked out hurriedly, tripping as the heel of her shoe caught in a dip in the floor. Silva jammed the thing back into his mouth, threw back his head and laughed. Finally, he thought, he was getting to her. You know what they say; revenge is a dish best served cold. And this, scaring the living daylights out of M by simply showing her the result of her wrongdoing, was the best feeling he had had in a long time...

"M? M!" M was on the floor just outside of the interrogation room, about four people standing around her; Q, James, Tanner and Mallory. Tanner was crouched beside her, and judging by the pain in her cheek and the position Tanner had his hand in when she opened her eyes, he had slapped her across the face. "Tanner, that was completely uncalled for!" M barked, sitting up.

"You look like hell," Mallory said flatly. That was nice of him.  
"Thank you, Mallory, coming from you, that's a compliment. What on earth just happened?"

"I'm about as clueless as you are," James pulled her to her feet. She dusted herself down self-consciously, the image of Silva bouncing through her head. Well, that was her chance of sleep tonight completely down the pan. James continued to speak. "I don't know what happened in there, but you blacked out for about twenty minutes the second you stepped out of the room. What did he do to you?"  
"N-nothing," M stammered. Probably scarred me for life, but that isn't a problem, she wanted to add, but held it in. Then, with a quick glance through the translucent glass door, upon realising that the crystal cell was empty. "Where the hell did he go?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Right, this has cut a few days to the hearing, and it's about when Silva appears. This has bits from M, Mallory, M again & Tanner's POVs, in that order, the rest is M. Hope you like it!**

* * *

_BANG!_ M screamed at the sound of gunshots as she vaulted over the table and hid behind it. She heard another shot from the opposite end of the room, and ducked down; hands over her head. Her training from when she had been an agent kicked in instinctively, and she was flat on her stomach underneath the long desk she, Mallory, Tanner and a bunch of others had been sat at less than a minute ago. She had no idea who was firing, and didn't intend to have to find out...

_BANG! _Mallory's eyes practically fell out of his head when he saw the bullet streaming towards him, fired from the gun of the blonde policeman standing at the doors. He didn't know what happened next. He heard M scream. She threw herself over the desk. The bullet meant for her hit him square in the head. Pain exploded everywhere in his body. He collapsed. Then everything went black. Silence. Dead silence...

The sound of Mallory hitting the desk made M panic, and she looked up. There was blood seeping from a wound in his head, and it was pooling around where he fell, so M assumed that the bullet that hit him had gone straight through his brain and come out the other side. He was staring up at the ceiling vacantly with large, soulless, empty eyes. No, she thought, no! She wasn't looking at the blood pooling on the desk, at the familiar face staring sightlessly at the sky. But though she prayed that it was a bad dream or something, it was true. And the familiar face of Raoul Silva - or Tiago Rodriguez, as she had known him - glaring across the room at her made it all the worse...

"M!" Tanner ran to where she was standing and tried to take hold of her. "Come on, we need to go!"  
"No, Tanner, you do. This is my fault, I deserve to pay for it. Okay, I'm not totally suicidal, I just think that if anyone other than me was to die then it would be unfair, to put it in a word," Tanner saw determination in M's face, mixed with a veil of sadness as she looked down on Mallory's body. There was no shifting her. He knew it. And if he tried again, she would just threaten to have him shot, as per usual. Working as close to someone with M's attitude problems as he did could be hard sometimes. There was no other thing to do. He was going to have to leave her...

M watched Tanner run out as if his behind was on fire and stood up from where she was hiding; her whole body shaking. Her eyes wide, she stared at Silva, trying to work out what he was going to do and when he was going to do it. Well, it became clear when he jammed another ammunition cartridge into his gun. The firing mechanism went back. M shielded her face and torso with her arms. She heard another shot, then the area just below her left shoulder went numb***** and she felt something warm and wet run down her arm, drip from her fingertips and onto the floor. There was red seeping through the black material of her tailored blazer, and that was when she noticed it. Blood. It was her own blood that she saw dripping down her arm to the white tiled floor. It was only now that she had worked out what had happened that she noticed how much it hurt. She grimaced, her hand flying to her wound, then letting go again when she noticed that her hand being in contact with it made the pain worse. The place her arm had been when she was shot was around an inch above her chest; she had both arms wrapped around her, so if Silva was either too far off to see what had actually happened or stupid enough to believe what she was about to do, there was one thing that came to mind; fake her own death.

Over the years, M had gotten pretty good at this, and now was no different. She dropped to the floor, looking as if she had actually just died, then turned over and making a sort of one-armed crawl towards the door. Nobody but her, Silva - though it had been him that planned and carried out the attack - and possibly Tanner seemed to know what on earth had just happened, but everyone was staring at Mallory's body. Good, she thought, that might distract them from her...

Perhaps a little too much to hope. As she stood up and ran when she was sure that Silva wasn't paying attention, she felt hands round her arms and warm breath on her neck. The feeling of Silva's thumb digging into her wound made her face screw up in an attempt not to cry out in pain. "Did you honestly think that it was that easy to get away from me, mommy?"

* * *

*** Okay, of course I have never been shot, so this is just my best guess at how M may have felt. Sorry for the cliffhanger, I just thought that was a good place to end it. See you again at some point, may the odds be ever in your favour and all that jazz :P**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh, Hjust need to say; congratulations to Dame Judi Dench and Javier Bardem on getting nominated for BAFTAs for Best Supporting Actor. I think that they both deserve it, and if there was one for Best Bond Villain and Best Bond Girl, then they would win hands-down. I'm turning this fic into a 00M by the way, it's just not happened you. Happy 2013 and may the odds be ever in your favour, BondxM-shippers!**

* * *

Okay, that was the last time M was going to leave her house keys in the car. That was, however, if she even lived to get the chance to make the same mistake twice. Waking up tied to a kitchen chair in your own living room, which had been turned over by somebody looking for something and currently looked as if a bomb had hit it had never really been too high up on her agenda, but according to Silva or whoever it actually was that kidnapped her from the hearing, it was something that she needed to get done.

The first unpleasant and mildly disturbing thing that she noticed was that, save for her bra, necklace and a slightly bloodied gauze bandage over the wound in her arm – how on earth that had gotten there in the first place, she didn't know – she wasn't wearing anything from the waist upwards. She felt some kind of bruise or something like that on the back of her head, but the cable tie around her wrists was preventing her from putting her hand to it and finding out for sure. All this would have been terrifying enough had just been any random terrorist out to kill and possibly torture, rape and do goodness knows what else to her, but it was someone who was;  
A) An old flame of hers  
B) Completely obsessed with her  
and C) Would probably not think twice about taking said obsession to a sexual level, almost definitely whether she liked it or not.

Old 00 instincts weren't yet kicking in, and it was then that it occurred to her that the only time she had ever been in this situation when she was an agent, she had been mercilessly tortured to within an inch of her life; about as far from escaping as it was humanly possible to get. Her non-existent ability to become an escape artist when necessary was going to make avoiding whatever the hell it was that Silva was planning to do to her maybe a teensy bit difficult...

"M," the dim twilight outside and the fact that there wasn't any lights on made seeing anything past the bridge of her own nose a little difficult for M, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to work out who the voice saying her name - well, sort of, due to the fact that her name wasn't actually M - belonged to. She could faintly see the shadowy outline of Silva walking towards her. "M, M, M...I have to say first, I'm sorry."  
"For what?" She spat viciously, looking up at the ceiling. "Shooting me, killing Mallory, those people who were in my office when it exploded and god knows who else, or blowing up my office whilst we're on the subject?"  
He was crouched in front of her, and though he was being more-or-less civil in a kind of mocking way, he was still reminding her of his crucial advantage if it came to a one-on-one fight; he had the best part of a foot over her when it came to height, and the fact that while he was on one knee and she was on a chair their eye levels were pretty much the same was a painful reminder of the problems that came with M's short stature. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, and she couldn't stand it. "Well, it depends what you want me to be sorry for...Evelyn..."  
"You lost the right to use my name when you officially lost your life," M muttered coldly, staring deep into his soft brown eyes with her harsh, cold steely blue ones and clenching her jaw. Her feelings towards this man were all over the place. They had been in love at some stage, then it had subsided into a mere professional relationship, then he had 'died' and though it had taken time, she had simply gotten over it. Now he had come back, she had gone from hatred to guilt to pity and then back to hatred again. The word 'soft' was the one ringing around in the space between her ears, but she pushed the thought to the back of her mind with all her other feelings. When you had a job like hers, showing something as weak as one's mere emotions could prove fatal, literally sometimes. She took in the fact that, even with his cheek prostheisis, the right side of his face still sunk a little. The second harsh reminder of her stupid mistake that had led to him becoming...well, _this._ A sort of half-sob, half laugh at her own weakness caught in her throat and made her choke a little, but she held it in. Damn mixed feelings. it was a combination of guilt, regret, love and sympathy now. "It was my fault in the first place. I should be saying sorry, not you..." Christ, what had gotten into her? She was just spewing out words without thinking, but she continued, gulping back another little sob. "...Tiago..."  
He stroked her face gently with the side of his hand. "That's my beautiful girl. did you miss me while I was gone, Evelyn?"  
"Please, don't...I'm so sorry...Did - did it hurt?"  
"Yes, it did terribly, but I realise it was worth it to see your face again."  
"Tiago, I'm an old woman. What could you possibly see in me now?"  
"You're still all there underneath," his hand cupped her wounded arm. She grimaced and flinched away from him, but he didn't move. "God, I wish I hadn't done that. See, I've hurt you now. We're even."  
"I suppose so. Why did you-"  
He put a finger to her lips, hushing her. "Shh...I regret what I did, Evelyn, I'm so sorry words can't say it. I wanted to kill you to start with for what you did, but then I realized that it was just a stupid mistake on your part. We all make them..." His hand was around the back of her head now, the other slipping around her wrists and gently sliding them from their bindings. As soon as her hands were free, he pulled her head towards him and gently put his lips to hers. It started gently, but soon he was sucking at her hungrily, aiming to leave a mark. M was too stunned to respond, but secretly this was hat she had been waiting for for years deep down.

He pulled away from her after about five minutes, and took in her stunned expression. "What? You didn't like it? You want me to stop?"  
After getting her breath back, shaking a little, her mind now mainly on the dull pain in her arm, M managed to turn her lips up in a tiny smile. Befor eputting her hands around his neck and returning the favour, she whispered into his ear gently; "No. I wnat you to bloody well do it again..."


	4. Chapter 4

M had no clear recollection of what happened next. She and Silva had been entwined in a kiss; her still sitting and him kneeling by now. Her hand had been in his hair, his attempting to undo her bra, by which point they were pressed against a wall, still with their lips together.

Then she felt Silva as nothing more than a dead weight against her, something hot, dark and red beginning to soak onto the area of her chest between neck and cleavage. She bolted upright, pulling out of their kiss, stunned by the blood that she was now covered in. Then, as she saw Silva lying limp, half slumped against the wall, she screamed. Out of character, but she ha been in edge for days, and now that the man who had had his tongue in her mouth less than a minute ago was lying dead against the wall, she just had to let it out somehow. That's when her surfaced emotions finally bubbled over and she dropped to her knees beside him, shaking him in a pointless attempt at arousing him, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Tiago!" She stammered in anguish, still knelt by his crumpled form. "Tiago, please wake up..." But despite trying desperately to deny fate and to at least convince herself that there was still hope for him, she knew that he would never wake again.

What on earth was _wrong _with her?She couldn't remember ever behaving like this before, except when a mission she had been on with Silva had gone completely balls-up, and he had almost died trying to save her. That had been him as well, though. Even though it wasn't something she was used to doing, she crouched by him and sobbed, until she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't need to look up to see who it was.  
"James bloody Bond! What the hell did you just _do?" _She stood up and stormed towards him, her face still tear-streaked and her body shaking. The first chance she got, she was revoking his licence to kill.

* * *

"Saving your bloody arse! What does it look like?" James threw his gun to the ground when he saw M. It hit the floor with a loud clatter, but he didn't care and she didn't seem to either. She was in an absolute state, that was for sure.  
"How the hell did you get in here?"  
"We've been tracing Silva for a while, remember? I managed to sweet-talk Eve into letting me see where he was and I've been here for the past hour. Yes, you were passed out for that long. I found out about what happened at the hearing. Are you okay?"  
"I was until you showed up! Oh, James, what did you _do?"_ M had one arm around his waist now, and she was pummeling his chest with her other, tears slipping from her eyes and her body shuddering with sobs. He caught her fist and held it where it was.  
"M, from where I was, it looked like he was trying to rape you and we found out that he's been planning to kill you. All that talk, it was the same tactic he used on the island with me. He really didn't care."  
"You don't know that!" M cried, biting her lip and glaring up at James. "And I don't care what he was planning to do or whether or not what he said was true. I deserved to die after that; I shouldn't have given him up in the first place! I loved him, James, and nothing you say will change that. I don't care if it was one-sided, but I did...Oh, what on earth did you _do?" _James took her by the shoulders, unable to decide if he wanted to hug her or punch her lights out. "M...M, he's completely broken you. That's exactly what he wanted you to think. Now, just calm-" and that was when he noticed the hastily tied, bloody bandage on her arm. "The bastard shot you," the concern in James's voice was a lot more obvious that he would have preferred, but at least he had said what he had been trying to.

"James, I never got the chance to check, but I'm pretty sure it's just a flesh wound; it's not deep or anything. I'm fine, really," M brushed him off; she had some kind of weird problem with people making a fuss of her.

"M, that doesn't look good. Just...sit down, I want to see." Guiding her by resting his hands on her shoulders and steering her where he wanted her to go, James got M sitting down on the chair where she had originally been tied, resting one hand on her breast, his thumb caressing the silk and gauzy black lace of her bra. Due to the fact that her high status made her pretty feared in MI6, people often seemed to forget that she was a woman, James himself included, and he had never realized how big she actually was in that department. He expected her to protest, but save for twitching a little at first, she seemed fine with this. After making the realization that she wasn't fazed by the position of his hand, he found the end of the bandage around her arm and gently began peeling back layers of bloody linen. His eyes were fixed on her face, and when he no longer felt fabric under his hand, but something warm and wet, he noticed the definite change in her facial expression. Just for a moment, but her eyes shut, her brows went up and her mouth twisted into a grimace. He removed his left hand from her wound, his right now off her chest and gently cupping the back of her arm, and he watched her features loosen again. Put his hand back where it had been in the first place. The flinch was definite this time. Only then did he avert his eyes from her face and focus on the state of her injured shoulder. God, did he hate her for her irritating habit of pretending she was perfectly alright when in actual fact she was nowhere near that. He could clearly see the silver head of the bullet still left in the wound and the white gleam of bone through broken skin and congealed blood yet to form a scab. Anywhere with around an inch of the wound was a bruised purple, indicating that the shot had chipped or cracked bone, and pretty much everywhere above her elbow was a painful, mottled red. James had to admit, even he, possibly he most 'accident prone' 00 in MI6, couldn't remember ever having a gunshot wound that bad. He probed a little with his finger and breathed in sharply, watching M's face contort with pain once more. "Just a flesh wound my arse, M. How could you not have known about this?"

"You really think that i had a chance to check in between running for my life and being knocked out by having my head banged against a wall? I honestly didn't, I just know that it hurt, then I didn't really bother to check because I couldn't feel it bleeding. Is it really that bad?" M turned her head to try and see the extent of the damage to her arm, and breathed a heavy gasp of shock and possible pain when she saw it. "Oh, James.." She whispered, her hand slipping into his and tightening with a grip that could easily have broken his fingers had she been trying. "How the hell did we get caught up in all this. I can't believe I'm saying this, but...I'm scared..."

He put his hand around her head, his fingers gently running through her hair. "M, don't worry. He's gone. I'll keep you safe..."


End file.
